Above the Crowd
by Freedom909
Summary: Éponine takes an unwilling Enjolras to a general admission concert. Pure fluff to counter all my recent angst. [Modern AU Oneshot]


**A/N: Well, well, I've been meaning to write this OneShot for ****forever and I just pushed aside all of my work to do it. There will be repercussions later, but you know…just enjoy this piece. I think that's more important. This is just pure fluff and a hint of a plot. I can't thank everyone enough for their fluff pieces to me, and thus, you all deserved one as well. **

**So please please enjoy this one!**

**Note: I wrote the song that is sung in here based on a poem I had found by an unknown author. So, the song is 80% mine we shall say. I don't own the characters, but I own the events.**

**Thanks a ton for reading! Let me know what you think!**

* * *

...

**Above the Crowd**

...

He did not want to come.

Enjolras protested and protested Éponine's begging for weeks but eventually had given in to her. He just didn't understand why he needed to leave his comfortable warm bed at six in the morning, before the sun even rose, just to come stand out in the cold, on a line, with a gazillion other people, for the next twelve hours. It just made no sense. It was plain stupid, if you asked him.

"I'm hungry and I could use some coffee," he complained, seeing the sun rise in between the tall buildings surrounding them. But he would admit only to himself: getting up this early had its perks; Times Square was absolutely break taking in the early morning sun.

"Oh, would you quit your whining?" Éponine grumbled to him as she leaned back on the stone building, folding her arms and rolling her eyes.

"Éponine, I've said it, and I'll say it again. This is stupid!"

"Enj, haven't you ever been to a concert before?" Musichetta interrupted from her spot on the wall next to Éponine.

"Of course!" he snapped. "But frankly, one where I've had an actual seat, and one where I've never had to wait on some damn line for hours!"

"My, my, is someone complaining?" Éponine retorted.

Enjolras pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. "I haven't had my coffee yet. Because _someone_ was too busy honking their horn outside my house at six a.m.!"

"Hey! I told you to be _ready_ at six! Not my fault you were still sleeping. And look, because of _your_ lateness, now we can't be first on line! So really this is all _your_ fault!"

Joly groaned obnoxiously, dropping his head onto Musichetta's shoulder. "If you two are just going to argue for the next twelve hours, I'm going to kick both of you off this line and tear up both your tickets."

"Please!" Enjolras groaned as Éponine simultaneously spoke.

"You wouldn't!" Her eyes were set in a dead stare on Joly.

He simply shrugged his shoulders giving her a small smirk, just daring her to keep going. Musichetta saw this and gave Joly a bump in the side with her elbow. "Ow, woman," he grumbled, rubbing his side.

"I swear," Grantaire said from beside Joly. "You two fight like an old married couple…hard to believe both of you are still alive after dating for two months."

Joly scoffed to Grantaire as Enjolras' stone features just stared them both down. "I'm still in the betting pool," Joly mumbled. "My bet's three months."

"Three months for what?" Enjolras hissed.

"For when Éponine kills you," he laughed. "Grantaire said a week."

"A week?" Éponine blurted out. "Have some faith, R. It'll be more like six months tops."

Enjolras' mouth fell open and he whipped his head to stare at her agape. "Six months? Really, Ép? That's what you think of me?"

Éponine playfully smacked Enjolras in the arm, consciously feeling his hard biceps through his brown jacket as she did. "Relax, Enj. It's just a joke."

"Well, not a very funny one. You see me laughing?"

"Jeez, can't you take a joke?"

"Not before eight o'clock in the morning."

"God, I always pegged you for a morning person, guess I was wrong."

"I am! I just haven't had my coffee yet, or did you forget our conversation four seconds ago?"

"Looks to me like someone needs to get Mr. Grumpy Pants his coffee before he has a conniption."

"I don't appreciate your sarcasm. I'd watch that lip if I were you."

"Oh yeah, and what are you going to do about it?" Éponine pouted, jutting out her bottom lip just to spite him.

Suddenly, Enjolras swooped his arms around her and pulled her flush against him. He stared her down, eyes menacing. "I'll bite it."

Her eyes darkened, staring him back with equal fervor. She cocked her head to the side and pulled her lip between her teeth. "I dare you."

In an instant, Enjolras attacked her mouth only to receive loud groans from Musichetta, Joly, and Grantaire.

"_Seriously_!" the three of them shouted.

"Get a room!"

"Ah! God!"

"If you both are going to do that, then you can leave!" Joly hollered.

Éponine pulled back from Enjolras with a mischievous smirk playing on her lips. She rested her head into his chest and stared at her friends. "It's either that or arguing. Pick one."

Musichetta just rolled her eyes, this time resting her head against Joly's shoulder. "It's going to be a long day…" she mumbled.

Enjolras kept his arms wrapped around Éponine, keeping her warm against him from the increasingly whipping wind. She had on nothing more than a thin green sweater with her jeans tucked into brown tall boots. "But seriously, Ép. I get waiting in line, but why did we have to wait here this early?"

"_Be_-cause! We need good spots! The Minette are just about the biggest band ever! The show is sold out. It's all general admission. People were going to start lining up early and if we didn't get here before them, how would we ever get a chance to see? I'm short, remember? So, we _need_ to be up front!"

Enjolras let out a discontented sigh, resting his chin on top of her head. "I guess…I just don't see the point. We're here thirteen hours early, just for a three hour concert? I just don't get it. Besides, I don't even know the first thing about them."

Éponine's head perked up, causing Enjolras to have to lift his head away from her. "And that's why I brought my iPod! You have until eight tonight to learn their songs!"

He groaned again, pressing his forehead against hers. "The things I do for you," he mumbled. He stroked her back through her sweater, relishing in having her skin so close to his touch. The wind whipped through them again and he instinctively pulled Éponine closer, feeling a shiver rip through her spine. "Why didn't you bring a jacket?" he asked casually.

"Why did you bring one?" she countered, raising a brow.

"Cause it's forty degrees out and there are flurries in the air."

"When did you turn into the weather man?"

Enjolras closed his eyes, shaking his head slightly. "Éponine, you're freezing."

"That doesn't matter!" He gave her an exasperated look, and she knew she was going to have to explain. "You can't bring a jacket to a general admission concert. What the heck are you going to do with it when the place turns into a freakin' sauna? That's why you wear light clothes and keep your phone and your money in your boot." She reached down, bent her knee back, and touched the side of her tall boot.

"But why did you wear boots with a heel? Aren't you're feet gonna be killing you standing in them all day?" he asked, referring to the two and a half inch pointed heel on the bottom of her boot.

"Ugh!" she groaned. "Because I'm short and I won't be able to see in flats! Or did you forget that from our conversation four seconds ago?"

Enjolras smirked, letting out a small breath at hearing her shout his words back at him. He settled on a different reply to their earlier conversation. "You know they have a coat room."

"No one has time for the coat room, Enj! You have to beat everyone else to the front!" she tossed her arms about in exasperation, since he obviously wasn't getting this. But feeling the wind through her sweater, she quickly wrapped her arms back into Enjolras' jacket and around his back. "And besides, isn't that why you came? To keep me warm?" she flitted him a smile, planting a small peck on his lips.

Enjolras couldn't help but grin and graciously, let go of her. She minutely whined at the loss of warmth but too soon, he placed his jacket around her shoulders and tugged her back into his chest, keeping her arms tucked between the two of them. "Better?" he asked, falling against the side of the building.

She nuzzled her face into his chest, breathing him in and closing her eyes at this new warmth. "Much better." Suddenly her eyes grew bright with excitement and she turned her head to Musichetta, beaming. "Oh my gosh, Chetta! Imagine if they walk by us and see us standing here! Imagine if they invite to come inside early! Imagine if we meet them! Oh my gosh! Just imagine!"

Musichetta laughed along. "Éponine, they probably use a side entrance - "

"I know, but just imagine!"

"It would be pretty awesome. Oh! Imagine if we touch Mac while he's singing! God, I'd die!" Musichetta pretended to swoon while she spoke, putting an overdramatic hand across her forehead.

"You'd die?" Éponine insisted. "I'd die if he just smiled at me! God, he's so gorgeous. I think I might die just seeing him live in person! Chetta, I am going to be in the same room as Mac! I think I'm going to pass out!"

Enjolras' features turned hard once again. "Who's Mac?"

"Only the lead singer of The Minette!" Musichetta answered.

"And just the most gorgeous person on the planet," Éponine added.

"Well duh, Ép. He's Mac Montparnasse," Musichetta continued, voice raising excitedly in the beginnings of a ramble. "He can play ten instruments, he writes all of their songs. His songs are so deep and powerful! And he's so nice and down-to-earth - "

"You sound like you know him personally, Chetta," Joly said with a scowl.

"Well, I've seen enough interviews. I know, Joly. Trust me."

Enjolras frowned. "Obviously, he's not _that_ amazing. The guy's probably a fake. Agents just say those things to sell their clients. It's probably all false."

Éponine's mouth hung open and she pulled away from Enjolras to stare at him wide eyed. "Take that back. Mac is not a fake."

"And he probably is just retouched in photos and wears a bunch of make-up on interviews," he continued, smirking. "There's no way a person is _that_ gorgeous."

"Take. It. Back," Éponine hissed, eyes narrowing.

He curled his lip upwards. "No."

Her expression fell and Enjolras could only laugh as he wrapped his arms back around her under his jacket and pulled her close again. She felt his chest trembling from the force of his laugh and soon her anger died away. She didn't have the heart to refute the argument, especially after hearing him laugh like that. She'd let him win this one, but not without the final word.

But before she could even say anything, Éponine felt his hands each dip into her back pockets and stroke her rear. She let out a small gasp, eyes darting around. But Enjolras just smiled down to her calmly and she suddenly realized the jacket was long enough to cover his wandering hands. She felt his fingers made soft sensual movements through the fabric of her jeans and she let a small moan escape.

"Still," she said, finding a voice. "I'm going to touch him tonight. And it's going to be amazing."

"Mmhmm..." he smiled.

...

So, the day passed on and the hours continued for the five friends standing on line. Enjolras couldn't say he had such an awful time. They all laughed and joked for hours, never a long lull in their conversation. Éponine and Enjolras even took a walk from the line to find coffee and breakfast for him.

At lunch, it was Musichetta and Joly's turn to leave the line and get food for them all. The afternoon disappeared from them quickly as Éponine took a much needed pee break with Musichetta and even a million city walkers stopped by to ask what they were waiting on line for. Éponine could only roll her eyes and point to the sign above the theatre, explaining who The Minette were.

By dinner, it was Enjolras and Grantaire's turn to leave for food. When they came back, the line was stretched down over two blocks and it was only five o'clock at night. Enjolras shook his head in amazement. If he wasn't sure before, he was certain now: people were crazy. Éponine and Musichetta were entertaining themselves with a simple schoolgirl hand game to pass the boredom, but with the prospect of dinner in front of them, they both turned into excited schoolgirls themselves. They sat down on the stone ground, picking at their already lukewarm burgers and fries.

"You know how filthy that ground is? Get up, Chetta," Joly said to her.

"It's fine...I'm tired of standing anyway," she responded with a smirk.

Innocent conversation such as this progressed until finally eight o'clock was approaching. Now, Éponine was a bundle of excitement and nerves, barely able to even stand still as she checked the time on her phone every second until eight o'clock would arrive and the doors would open.

And then it happened. The clock changed from 7:59 to 8:00 and both Éponine and Musichetta squealed as loudly as they could. Quickly, they got their tickets scanned and raced inside the theatre and down the stairs to the concert hall. Enjolras, Joly, and Grantaire struggled to keep pace with them and eventually Enjolras caught Éponine by the hand, stopping her in her tracks.

"Wait a sec, I've got to use the bathroom," he announced.

"You pick now out of the last twelve hours we've been standing there!" Éponine groaned loudly as masses of people brushed by them to the concert hall. "Enjolras..." she whined, even stamping her foot for emphasis.

"Just a second," he insisted and walked away to the men's bathroom.

Éponine fidgeted impatiently, as she stood waiting for him to come back out. Her nerves were eating at her. Every second longer they stood there, the space was filling up. The three others she stood with had nothing to say to ease her anxiety.

Finally, when Enjolras emerged from the bathroom, she thanked whatever being there was that made men pee quickly. She grabbed his hand and tugged him through the crowds into the main concert hall. When they arrived, she was disappointed to see it was already pretty packed in front of the stage. But still she raced to the center spot, right behind two men who were taller than her - probably both the height of Enjolras.

She groaned, whipping a head to her boyfriend. "This is your fault."

"Éponine, calm down. We're not that far away from the front. Like...six people deep. That's not terrible."

She grimaced, suppressing her growing annoyance and rage.

"So when do we get drunk?" Grantaire asked, interrupting her boiling anger.

"We can go get some beers now if you want?" Enjolras suggested. "Joly, wait with the girls, we'll go grab a couple."

"But Enj..." Éponine whined. "You won't be able to make it back here. Don't leave me."

Enjolras leaned closer to her and pressed his lips to the top of her head. "I'm just getting beer. I'll be right back."

Reluctantly, she let him go and watched him push his way with Grantaire through the building crowd behind them. They disappeared from sight and soon, more people came, taking over their spots. Éponine couldn't help but fidget again, constantly trying to look around and see if Enjolras was close to coming back again. Her anxiety was building the longer he was away again. But then, her eyes lightened when she saw the mess of blonde hair holding a beer above the crowd and pushing his way through the people.

"Enjolras!" Éponine called to him. He caught her eye and pushed onwards toward her, ignoring insults and dirty looks from the people he was pushing in front of. Grantaire was close behind him, holding two beers high. He handed one to Joly as they approached.

The five formed a small circle, smushed between masses of people all around them. "You didn't get us a beer?" Éponine asked, referring to her and Musichetta.

Enjolras took a slug of his beer from the topless plastic cup. "It's not that good anyway."

"Well, I still want to try..." she complained.

Suddenly, Enjolras snaked his arm around her waist, tangling his fingers in her long dark hair and gently pulling it downwards so her chin popped up. He held the cup to her lips and let her take a sip.

"You two are disgustingly cute," Musichetta remarked, staring straight at the couple. "It makes me sick."

The couple only smirked, chuckling at her in reply. Joly turned his head to his girlfriend. "I can let you try some too, if you want."

"Don't you dare," Musichetta bit back. "I will not let you feed me beer." The four others burst into a fit of giggles, finding their own happiness in this cramped place.

It didn't long after that for the concert to start. Éponine stood in front of Enjolras with Grantaire a step to the side on the left and Joly and Musichetta on her right. The opening band played to an enthused crowd but anyone could tell that the crowd was just dying in anticipation to see the main event.

Éponine swayed her hips to the side and Enjolras thought it was cute how she was dancing to the music. But being his asinine self, he soon realized she was only moving so much because she couldn't see with the two tall men in front of her. He noticed that Musichetta wasn't having that problem, she was off to the side of the men and was in a good view of the stage. Enjolras only grimaced, but hoped once the main act came out, the crowd would shift, hopefully giving Éponine a better view eventually.

Then finally, the lights shut out and a brilliant blue haze drifted across the stage, igniting the audience in an azure glow and placing one empty spotlight center stage. In the next second, the band jumped from the side of the stage, each taking their places.

A dark, tall, curly haired man took center stage, right in the spotlight. He had on a simple outfit: white T shirt, black jeans. Every girl in the audience - Éponine included - nearly fainted the moment he curled his lips into a dazzling smile as he took in the crowd. Enjolras would admit, this man wasn't bad looking, but he was nowhere near as gorgeous as Éponine described. What did this guy have that he didn't? He just didn't get it and instantly, Enjolras despised him.

"Who's ready to have some fun?" Mac shouted into the microphone and Enjolras swore he lost hearing for a moment.

He had never heard Éponine scream so loud in his life; he never thought she was even capable of that sound until it came from her. He watched her glance over to Musichetta and the two both let out the biggest excited squeal. The band started up, bass thumping around them, and Enjolras just stood standstill, not really knowing what to do with himself. But he felt Éponine start swaying in front of him, her rear leisurely rubbing against him side to side. Her swaying soon turned to jumping as the beat of the music picked up.

"Let me see you jump!" Mac shouted in between verses of the song.

Before Enjolras knew it, the whole audience was jumping up and down, hands in the air, bumping along to the beat. He heard an impatient groan come from in front of him, and Enjolras realized Éponine was still having trouble seeing the stage. Yet, she smiled and tried to dance along, singing to the lyrics lowly - but he could tell she wasn't having as much fun as she could.

Reaching over her head, Enjolras shoved a hand on each of the tall guys in front of her and pushed them apart. "She can't see!" he yelled at them while they each gave him a nasty look. The men looked down at Éponine, giving her a sympathetic smile and made room for her to stand in front of them.

But Éponine's eyes turned wide as she turned around to stare at Enjolras in disbelief. "No!" she shouted over the blaring music. "That's alright! I'd rather stand next to you than see!"

The men shrugged their shoulders and closed the gap between them. Enjolras just looked at her in amazement, knowing she missed her opportunity to see the concert. With no words, Enjolras hugged his arms around her shoulders, leaning his weight on her. He kissed her cheek, making her giggle, and turned his attention back to the stage. Éponine began swaying again, and this time he swayed along with her as he listened to her singing. "You sing better than them!" he yelled in her ear.

Éponine scoffed, turning her eyes up to him. "Do not! I could never sing as well as them!"

He just sighed, nuzzling his cheek in her hair. He was just happy to listen to her sing all night.

The concert played out, songs one after the next and as much fun as Enjolras was having, he felt guilty that Éponine still couldn't see. This was her favorite band after all, and because of his bathroom break, they couldn't get to the front. She didn't seem to mind it, but he knew she would have liked to see her favorite band. The music died away, ending another song.

Mac took the microphone again, sweat beading down his pale flashed face. "Alright guys, tell me who out there knows this song?" He leaned away from the microphone and signaled to his drummer. "Ready…1…2…"

Immediately, the drums started playing a staccato beat as Mac pulled the microphone from the stand, jumping a step to the rhythm. Suddenly, the entire crowd screamed. Éponine was right there too, screaming at the top of her lungs, jumping up and down with newfound joy and excitement.

"This is my favorite song!" she screamed.

Enjolras felt his heart skip a beat as Éponine sung along in time with the words and soon the lyrics engulfed the room.

_"He shines like silver midnight moon.  
A cool marble statue, this tycoon.  
At his cold touch, the girls are swayed.  
Of ice he's made; Of ice he's made."_

She closed her eyes, leaning her head back against Enjolras. Then, she leaned forward again, searching through the people for Mac, just wanting to get a glimpse of him singing her favorite song.

_"Now love's appeal has come his way.  
__What will he do? What will he say?  
__Will he grab hold, beg love to stay?  
__Or let it stray? Or let it stray?"_

Enjolras could see her searching and soon an idea struck him. In a moment, he bent to the floor, hands trailing down her body, where they landed on her thighs, parting them slightly.

Éponine jumped, gasping a bit and not knowing exactly what was going on. Too soon though, she felt a head push between her legs and she drew in a sharp breath, eyes widening and hands immediately grasping the head between her thighs. "Enjolras! What are you - "

But in the next instant, Éponine was lifted from the ground and suddenly looking down at all the faces in the crowd. Her hands scrabbled against Enjolras' head, probably poking him the eye, as she struggled to find her balance.

"Don't worry, I've got you," he called up to her, smirking as he did.

_"With fire and a work of art,  
__An icy heart will fall apart."_

Éponine felt her heart melt at Enjolras' word mixed with the brilliant lyrics. She looked around with wide eyes at the faces of everyone looking up to her now. She would be lying if she said she didn't feel a bit embarrassed and out of place, sitting on top of Enjolras shoulders above a crowd full of people. But when she looked forward she had perfect view of the stage and she stilled for Mac was staring right at her.

His lips smiled to her, eyes boring right into her as he pressed the microphone against his lips. It was almost as if he was singing the next part of the song right to her.

_"Like ink the color red, she stains  
__the hearts of whose love she drains.  
__They always leave her fire broken.  
__Not a word spoken; Not a word spoken."  
_

She was too in shock to even sing, but Mac's eyes never left her. Without a conscious thought about it, Éponine let go of Enjolras' head and reached out a tentative hand to Mac. Simultaneously, he did the same, using his free hand to reach for her.

Enjolras smiled up wide to them, putting jealousy aside and taking a step forward so Éponine could reach him easier.

And then, it happened. The music fell around them. Time paused. Éponine's heart beat loudly in her ears as her and Mac touched hands. It was an icy to fire touch, but Mac held her hand for a few seconds, giving it gentle squeeze accompanied with an enchanting smile. Then it was over and the two hands broke away. Still, Mac stared at her while he finished up the song, never taking his eyes from hers as he danced about the stage, getting lost in the song himself.

_"But now there's one who would be nice.  
__For him alone, she'd sacrifice.  
__Her everything, but he's of ice.  
__She must entice; She must entice."_

With a newfound thrill, Éponine held her hands high in the air as she sang along loudly to the lyrics. She twisted her body minutely, trying to sway from atop Enjolras' shoulders. For the rest of the song, it was was just her and Mac, both singing the same song that had now turned into a duet. Her heart still thudded in her chest and for just a moment, the world felt wonderful. There was nothing more she could possibly want.

_"With fire and a work of art,  
__An icy heart will fall...apart."_

The song finished up, the lights shut out, the screams filled the air, and Enjolras dropped back to the ground, placing down Éponine's feet and sliding his head out from between her legs. He stood back upright and all of a sudden was met with Éponine's lips on his. She curled her arms around his neck and pulled herself tightly against him. In the cloak of darkness and the small specs of cellphone lights, he could see her radiant eyes shining up to him.

"Thank you," she murmured. "This is the best night of my life."

Enjolras held her tight, never wanting to let her go. He vaguely heard the rest of the concert as they played the final song. Instead, Enjolras was content to just sway to the music, keeping Éponine wrapped tight against him. He wished for the concert to never end, he didn't want this moment with her to end, he just wanted to bottle it up and hold onto it forever.

But all good things come to an end, and so, Enjolras and Éponine left the concert hall hand in hand with their friends trailing behind them. Éponine had an excited air about her, head in the clouds, floating on good times. She tripped up the stairs, either from her tired feet or her dazed excitement, but whichever, Enjolras was there to catch her.

The friends made it out into the cold night air; the sky above them black but the streets alight with the city's glow. The lights served as their own stars in their heavenly blissful aftermath of the concert. As they began walking down the blocks, back to Penn Station to catch their train, Éponine leaned against Enjolras, snuggling her arms around him and causing him to lose his balance.

"Someone's tired," he mused, cupping her chin and forcing her eyes up to his.

"My feet just hurt," she complained.

"I told you you shouldn't have worn heels," Enjolras smirked before bending down and swooping her up in her arms. He heard the astonished shocks and chuckles from his friends, but quickly ignored them.

"Enjolras!" Éponine squealed, kicking her feet and groping the material of his shirt to wrap her arms around his neck. She darted her head around, meeting the stares of every other city night walker looking at them. "Enjolras, you can't - this is embarrassing!"

"My, my, is someone complaining?"

She pouted her lips with a grimace, sulking. She sighed, and rested her head against his shoulder. "…no."

He kissed the top of her head lightly as he continued walking down the street with her in his arms in the rush of all the other people. "Good. Let's go home." It was the perfect end to the perfect night and suddenly, Enjolras realized:

He was glad he came.


End file.
